We Can Muddle Through This
by StarkidDreamer
Summary: The story of how Darcy Lewis meet's (and eventually falls in love with) Clint Barton. It's not exactly an easy ride but it's so worth it. (Previously titled The, Not so Sunny, story of how Darcy met Clint)
1. Back alley's and botched Muggings

Well, someone was getting fired. Really, it was all their fault. For one thing, Darcy Anne Lewis should have been followed. It was SHIELD Protocol. She should have had SOMEONE watching her. The Agent watching Dr. Foster should have noted when her assistant went out for a Coffee run. She waved her purple painted fingers at Dr. Foster with a sluggish grunt. "Coffee now. Be back in ten." she'd called then flitted off out the front door. Ever since the incident that took place in Puente Antiguo a few weeks ago SHIELD had taken a… special interest in Dr. Foster.

It was the good Doctor who noticed Darcy, after forty five minutes, had yet to return with her usually Caramel Macchiato and a Grande black coffee for Jane. Darcy did have a sweet tooth and tended for the sweet coffee's. Jane, excited, had turned to tell Darcy about what she'd just found and realized that, after all that time, she was actually alone. Really alone. (Save for the Agent watching from a distance of course.) Jane's face faded from a bright smile to a deep frown as she looked around. Darcy was always around. Somewhere.

Usually at this time she'd point to the, now cold, coffee with a long painted finger while playing Angry Birds with her free hand. Her eyes would slide up and she'd quirk a smile at the Scientist before allowing her another hour or two of work before dragging her, most likely shower needing, butt to bed. She wasn't there. She wasn't swearing at the "Little Boomerang Bastard" for not turning the right way or kicking her feet out as her destroyed Chucks smacked into the machine to her left that was, admittedly, actually put together with duct tape and bobby pins.

Though Flaky and, often times, Distracted Darcy was NEVER late. She took her education seriously. As seriously as someone who'd changed their Major two times could. She never disappeared like this. Especially after the events a few weeks ago. She always seemed attached to Jane's hips. Making sure she was fed and watered and well taken care of because she certainly didn't take care of herself. Especially when the prospect of Thor returning was on her mind. Jane called over the Agent.

This is where the whole situation get's really messed up. The part where, if this Agent isn't fired for being an idiot, Jane would make sure the Agent was standing too close when one of her more…rickety machines decided to give it's last hurrah. She was totally okay with horribly disfiguring this person. Totally okay with it. The main reason being that she didn't call Darcy in as missing. It took an hour, a-whole-nother hour AFTER she'd noticed Darcy gone, before she got so frustrated with this 'Jackbooted Thug.' that she simply picked up her cell phone, the one Darcy had made absolutely sure was paid for every month (Because Jane was too busy to actually pay her own bills.) and called the direct line she had to Fury.

Things started rolling after that but, again, it was another twenty minutes before anything actually happened. Now the Agent was actually starting to look to the door nervously, probably hoping Darcy would come in any minute with her lipstick smeared and that shit eating "I just got LAID!" grin on her face. She didn't. The person that did come through the door was much more terrifying. And yeah, the Agent would definitely be fired. No doubt about that now. Because Hawkeye wasn't called in for simple matters. The distraught and very tired Jane Foster scurried over to him and, true to her Jane Foster-ness, started yelling at him. She didn't seem to care that he had a nocked arrow pointed at the floor as his arms half pulled back the string on his compound bow.

He did not look impressed by the ranting and hysterical Doctor. His face remained impassive but his body was taught as he scanned the room, blue eyes narrowed as he swept the area. Satisfied, he relaxed his arm. "What happened?" he asked and Jane sputtered, realizing he hadn't heard anything she'd said. Not that any of it had to do with what had happened so much as how incompetent the Agent's were and something about an Ipod that had never actually been returned. Jane blinked and explained her concerns, detailing Darcy's punctuality. Clint looked to the Agent. "You weren't watching her?" his brow rose but his voice had grown tight.

"She's just an assistant. She doesn't know anything…" Clint cut her off with a scathing look and a raised hand. He turned, the look on his face murderous as he stalked away to actually look for Darcy, something that should have been done an hour and a half ago as soon as she was so much as five minutes late. He left behind a bewildered but seething Jane and a pathetic looking Agent Hammond. 'HAMMOND! That was the woman's name!' Jane thought superciliously. She wrang her hands together and began her pacing. Darcy had always called it the Death Pace. Whenever Jane got pacing Darcy made sure she was on some hard surface so she wouldn't destroy any rugs or the small patches of grass outside that sometimes lived through the heat.

Clint found himself on top of the Starbucks that Lewis often frequented. It had a habit of keeping open at late hours such as this, despite the small town atmosphere and the fact that most people were in bed at, he glanced at his watch, four am, in the small rebuilding town of Puente Antiguo. He couldn't call this an official OP until he was sure Lewis was actually missing. She was a college girl after all but if Doctor Foster was worried about the busty assistant that Clint had never actually met before then he would take this seriously. Especially since she'd been missing for two hours now without a call. She knew the protocol.

Clint's eyes missed nothing as he swept them over the ground over the are he could see from the top of the coffee shop. Even so he almost missed it. Almost. They didn't call him Hawkeye because he had a thing for bird puns. That was for sure. The small black cartridge lay on the sidewalk about two blocks away between the shop and Doctor Fosters lab. 'If it could actually be called a lab.' Clint thought as he made his way down the side of the building. He dropped down next to the cartridge as he neared it, eyes narrowing. It wasn't just some average black thing. It was a taser. Probably dropped in a struggle.

He snapped up at the sound of a soft groan, body half turning down into the alley. Okay so it wasn't exactly an alley so much as a small street between two buildings big enough for a bike and an industrial garbage bin and not much else. He paused, assessing the possible threat before the noise came again. It was feminine and pained. He rushed forward bow raised as he did so, adrenalin pumping.

He spotted her on the ground first but kept his head up as he looked around, trying to find a threat, any threat, arrow nocked and ready. He could already feel the muscles in his arm hot and ready to uncoil and loose the arrow into the threats throat. When he realized there was no threat he finally took the moment to actually look down and examine the brunette girl in a crumpled mass on the floor. Her clothes were a little rumpled but in tact. Her knees were pulled to her chest but one leg splayed out to the side, folded down the relieve pressure against her side. Her side that was bleeding.

Her hand was covered in the dark stuff, most likely from pressing her hands to the wound firmly for as long as she could before she'd gotten to this state. She was pale, though he knew she was usually pale to some extent. He'd seen her before, heard her voice, knew a bit about her, of course she didn't know that. He was trained not to be seen. He crouched down and she jerked, eyes flying open. Her red lips quirked up into a half smile as her eyes, pale in the moonlight, focused on his mirrored blue eyes. "Took you long enough." she said thickly, a tinge of sarcasm to her tone. It was mostly lost by the rasp in her voice and how quiet her usually boisterous voice could be.

He didn't bother asking what had happened. There was time for that later. Of course it was probably better to assess now but not when the puddle of red under her was at least a liter. Maybe two. He hooked his bow over his shoulder and bent, scooping her up then turning to jog back to the lab. Darcy's eyes had closed and she remained quiet as his boots pounded rhythmically over the newly poured concrete. She felt his foot lift and heard a cracking noise before she was jolted forward. Then she heard voices, at first angry then scared, worry tinging in the tone.

Darcy eventually woke up. She was laying flat on some relatively soft surface that felt like that shitty futon her sophomore year roommate had called the "Love Couch." It had been utilized accordingly. She let out a grumpy sigh and opened her eyes to a dim room. She wouldn't call it a hospital so much as a warehouse converted into a hospital. "You got mugged." She heard Jane's annoyed voice before she spotted the scientist. "In Puente Antiguo. Mugged, Darcy?" Darcy's head turned and she made a face.

"I'm pathetic. I get it. He got my Taser." She actually seemed more annoyed at the loss of Sparksy-McGee then anything else. Jane gave her a disapproving look that was broken by a grin forming over Jane's lips. "So I take it I wont be a veggie? All hail Sparksy then." she seemed rather proud of herself, to be honest.

"I wouldn't sound so proud, Lewis." that voice said. It was really all she had of the bow toting guy who'd eventually come for her. She hadn't gotten a good look at his face but that voice. She'd dreamed in that voice. Her head whipped to the side sending her reddish brown curls flinging to the side as she got a good look at him. "You left without an escort and nearly got yourself killed. This is not a victory."

"All right Daryl Dixon." she said with a cock to her hip. The action was actually pretty difficult considering the shock of pain it sent through her and the fact that she'd managed it while laying on the Love Couch 2.0. She winced and Clint rose a brow at her. "Dude spilled coffee on my favorite Ramones hoodie." she was probably referring to the blood soaked hoodie that had been burned upon arrival. He was not going to tell her that though.

"My name is Clint." he corrected her, obviously not getting the reference. Darcy smirked which was accompanied by a wince. Jane fluttered at her side. "The assailant came forward…" He said, a dark edge to his voice. "He's in custody now." Darcy rose both brows and realized she probably had a potato shaped bruise across her cheek from the kids meaty hand slamming into her face just before she'd tased him in the balls. She sighed, not wanting to even think about the cover up she'd have to use to cover it.

"I'm Darcy." she finally said with a wave of her hand. "And thanks for comping to my rescue, Clint. Can't imagine Jane made it easy. Did you make sure she was fed while I was out? She probably forgot." And just like that she'd swung back into her routine. Sort of. That's also how Darcy officially met Hawkeye. She'd look back at it later with an odd sort of fondness, thanking the dumb kid who'd mugger her. You know, secretly. She'd never actually say it out loud but he'd changed her life for the better. Things were looking up now.


	2. Parting in such sweet Sorrow

Okay, this is officially Multi-Chap. Happy now (I am.)?

* * *

The next time Darcy meets with Clint is right after the Battle of Manhattan. Of course _he'd_ seen her from time to time, she just never knew. He would find himself watching her from the roof opposite the lab when he was on Jane Foster Duty. He had always preferred a birds eye view, pun intended, so the roof was his go to. He'd been watching them for a few weeks after Lewis was mugged to make sure everything was okay as their new Agent got set up. Everything went smoothly and he was sent somewhere where his skills would be utilized better. Before he left he'd dropped off a box on her desk when everyone was asleep. He didn't wait to see her open it and, he'd assumed, he probably wouldn't see her again anyways.

He _was_ surprised to see her sitting in the medical bay at SHIELD headquarters after the battle. She looked no worse for the wear, more like she was being forced to be there. Of course he'd been in a situation similar as such on multiple occasions. Her hair was wildly disheveled and she had a bruise forming over her cheek. It was a particularly nasty one but it _would_ heal. She was wearing it too. The object he'd gently placed in a box those months ago when he snuck away. A replacement of her destroyed Ramones hoodie. It was covered in blood again. He watched her for a moment, baffled as to her presence. He'd assumed she'd been relocated with Doctor Foster.

She limped forward and started lecturing one of the people in the many beds that had been crammed into the small room. She turned then and spotted him, a Cheshire grin spreading across her face. A cut along her lip stretched and started bleeding again as she limped over to him, grin still wide. "Robin Hood!" she cheered and ran a hand through her hair. Bits of gravel and plaster dust cascaded down over her shoulders and he noticed a part of her hair had been cut, leaving the ends frayed and much shorter than the rest of it. Her hair had grown longer in the year since he'd last seen her, curling wildly at the bottom. This was all objective observation, of course. He told himself that anyways. He realized that she'd spoken and his brows furrowed.

"What are you doing here, Lewis?" he asked, voice going gruff for a moment before he reigned it back in. After all, civilians shouldn't be down there to begin with. That, of course, is not why he was asking. He was more concerned about the blood spattered across her hoodie and the way she limped. He wouldn't say he liked her, that wasn't exactly it. He was curious about the Poli-Sci Major. Intrigued even. She rose a brow and crossed her arms over her chest then cocked her hip, completing what he would later learn to call the "Darcy Lewis Stare Down". It was aptly named. Her blue eyes starred into his and he realized her glasses were gone.

"I work here?" she replied then paused. "Okay not _here_ here." She gestured around to the med-bay. "I mean I work here." Her hands spread out as if to encompass the entire building. She sighed at the look on his face. "What, did you think I'd be Jane's lackey forever? I graduated a few months ago." He'd made a note to look that up later and her shoulders slumped. Someone else was being rushed past them and he could see an almost defeat like look cross her face. She was not defeated though. She was anything but as she turned to face the incoming group. "You! There are too many people in here! Who said you could bring more here? Third floor!" it seemed as if she'd gone from Scientist Wrangler to agent Wrangler in that last year.

"Whose blood is that?" the words came out casually and her eyes shot down to her hoodie. She let out a creative string of expletives and peeled the sweater off expertly. She had on a white button down top on under it and, he just noticed, she had on a pencil skirt. Her SHIELD ID was clipped to the bottom of her shirt and she wore a vest over the white button down. It all looked very professional aside from the Chucks she wore and mismatched socks. It looked like she'd been getting ready for work when the attack hit and just kind of threw the rest on once she realized what had been happening. The thing that made him nervous was the shoulder strap guns hooked over both shoulders. One of the guns was missing and the other looked inoperable by how beat up it appeared.

As soon as she was done swearing her head bounced back up. She noted the starring but didn't comment on it, simply moved past it and kept talking. "Well, it's clearly not my own." She grumbled and yanked her hair into a pony tail. She pulled her vest off and tossed it into the trash. It had been seeped with blood too. Her white shirt had only been speckled with the red droplets. There were also greenish colored droplets sprayed across the collar of the shirt and some on her cheek. "I had a rough commute." She said with a smirk. He wanted to ask exactly how rough but she turned and started shouting at someone else. She turned to him for another second and smiled. "Sorry Clint, I gotta go!" she wailed and was off like a bolt.

Clint watched her go then turned to get treated before heading back off again. He found that in the next few weeks there was hardly a moment of down time. He spent a lot of time in the part of SHIELD he hated the most. Meeting rooms. There was a lot of paper work to be done and he knew he wasn't the only "Avenger" stuck doing the work. He'd spotted Nat nearly pulling her hair out at one of the back desks one night. Of course to anyone else she appeared to be perfectly fine, not a hair or nail out of place. He knew better judging by the way she was downing coffee and very nearly twitching. Throughout the offices he would see her though. Darcy. She looked very professional as she worked.

She'd been forced to cut her hair after the battle, it seemed, because her hair was much shorter the next time he saw her. The cut on her lip was also stitched up. She'd probably ignored it until last possible moment and it ended up needing stitches. When he finally got a free moment he looked her up. He felt strange doing it but there was no reason not to. She had once been his Op after all. She'd graduated nearly top of her class from Culver earning her degree in the Political Science Law and Justice track. Afterwards she'd been snatched up by SHIELD. It made sense after all. Someone so involved in the whole New Mexico mess was likely to be snatched up quickly. Since she was qualified it made even more sense that they gave her a job and necessary training. He scanned through the information but avoided the family stuff, sticking to the professional at least a little. He stopped at a video feed from the battle and clicked it.

The screen lit up with a news report. The woman reporting was standing, hair whipping around her wildly as she tried to hold it back with one hand, the other gripping an obnoxious microphone. Her head sliced to the side and she started talking faster. "I'm not sure how long I can hold my position here but a group of people just ran out of the rubble there and, pan left!" she snapped at the camera man. The camera spun to the left. And there Darcy was. She was pointing off in the distance and ushering people along. Someone was leaning against her heavily and her shoes were tossed over her shoulders like she hadn't had enough time to actually get them on. The state of her feet proved that to be true. Her head whipped up and she spotted the camera. He could see the expletive on her lips as she tucked her SHIELD badge into her skirt.

A moment later her eyes went wide and she screamed. Her voice couldn't be heard over the roar that shook the camera's lens. It looked like she was screaming something but, even with his eyes trained for lip reading, he couldn't figure it out. She helped the man over onto someone else's shoulders and he could see she shouted _''Go!" _before she ran towards the camera. She tried to get one shoe on, bouncing as she ran. "Are you _CRAZY?_" she shouted at the anchor woman and shoved at her. "Get out of here!" she gritted out as she shoved the other shoe on. The news feed cut out a moment later. Clint couldn't help but grin as he shook his head. Darcy certainly was an interesting girl. Woman.

It was another few weeks before he actually got a chance to talk to her again. She was face planted into her desk, piles of papers and folders stacked around her like a paper city was forming around her and electing her mayor. Her short hair was splayed over her arms which were pillowing her head on the small space that was free. He stood there for a moment then set the cup of coffee in his hands down onto one of the stacks of paper. Her voice came quick and sharp. "You better not have put that on the latest status reports from the Manhattan rebuild or _I swear to Thor I will tase you in the balls._" She didn't even seem to need to look up to know someone was there.

"You know, usually people say _thank you._" He grunted and her head whipped up. She looked surprised and disheveled and confused all at once, managing to pull off all three looks surprisingly well. Her mouth flopped open like a fish for a moment before she snapped her mouth shut and snatched the cup up. She peeled the lid back and smelled the sweet scent on Caramel. She grinned and sipped it appreciatively. Her eyes never left his face, even as her head dipped to suck the foam off the top of the drink. She pulled away and tilted her head.

"I thought you'd be off to Kazakhstan or some other unknown country to save the day or something." She finally commented, pointing at him with one finger as she kept a tight hold on the poor cup. Clint snorted.

"You have your paper work and I have mine." She groaned and dropped her head forward.

"No more paperwork." She moaned and gave a fake shudder. Clint quirked a half smile at it. He opened his mouth to say something else but there was a loud bang noise to the left and a rush of hot air. Darcy let out a sharp sigh and got up. "Scuse me." She said primly and grabbed a fire extinguisher from under her desk. It just goes to show how often this happened that she had one under there in the first place.

The next time they meet is actually completely on accident. Clint stumbles into an argument between her and someone else. He can't actually see who she's yelling at at first, some poor scientist. "-don't care _what_ you turn into!" He heard her shout and smack her hand against the wall, flattening her palm against the white expanse. "You still need to eat and sleep like a normal human being!" Clint rounded the corner to see which poor soul had ended up on the bad end of a Darcy Rant and froze. He knew Darcy had some balls but he never thought she was _crazy_ before now.

Doctor Banner pushed his glasses up his nose and Darcy opened her mouth to yell at him some more. Clint grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her back. She yelped as he dragged her around the corner, leaving a stunned looking Doctor Banner behind. He continued to pull her down the hall until she snapped out of it enough to jerk herself violently free. "What do you think you're doing?!" she snapped and crossed her arms under her chest. She stood with her hip cocked to one side and her mouth in a hard line. The stitches had been removed by then, of course, but there was a white scar there now.

"I was going to ask you the same thing. _Do you know who that is?_" the words were sharper than he intended. He found himself wondering why he was even bothering. It's not like he was her father or anything. She narrowed her eyes through her brand new pair of glasses, the pair she'd gotten to replace the ones lost in the battle. "You were just yelling at the _Hulk_."

"I am _perfectly aware_ of whom I was talking to and I'm also perfectly aware of the fact that _Doctor Banner _has not slept in three days!" She hissed out the Doctors name to put emphasis on the fact that he was a human being, not just a rage-y green guy with a penchant for throwing cars and catching falling genius billionaire playboy philanthropists. She managed to convey anger and hurt in one look. "You are not my baby sitter. You aren't even really my friend. I can handle myself." She clipped out then stormed away. No. She didn't _storm_ so much as walk with a purpose only women knew how to do. Clint ran a hand down his face and sighed as he turned to walk away, thinking of the turn of events.


End file.
